


I've Got You

by DragonHeartstring360



Series: Supernatural Imagines [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Disorder, Comfort, Depression, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-05 02:59:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11568906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonHeartstring360/pseuds/DragonHeartstring360
Summary: During a bad bout of your depression and anxiety, a rough hunt pushes you over the edge. Sam is there to give you love and comfort and have your back, always.





	I've Got You

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: descriptions of depression and anxiety and mentions of self-harm, possibly triggering; mentions/descriptions of a rough hunt; cursing; the end gets a wee bit steamy, but there’s no smut in this one, since I know not everyone likes to read that—it’s just making out.
> 
> A/N: This is for anyone having a rough time right now. Hopefully some comforting Sam will help. You’re all amazing and beautiful and if you need to talk, my inbox is always open. Always Keep Fighting <3

-Reader’s POV-

You emerged from the bathroom for the hundredth time this month wiping at your red-rimmed eyes. You’d always had trouble with depression and anxiety, which you’d tried to hide ever since you joined the Winchesters, but they had to have noticed what was going on lately. You just felt so mentally drained all the time and it didn’t seem to be going away. Couple that with the extremely rough hunt the three of you finished and the dam had finally broken. Of course, you’d been crying often this month, but the sobs you’d let out in the shower felt different. It felt like the final wall had come down and you just couldn’t anymore. You didn’t even know what it was you couldn’t do—everything, nothing, hell if you knew. You were just done. As much as you didn’t want to think about it, you’d felt the whispers in your mind telling you to hurt yourself, but you pushed them away—especially when you caught yourself trying to think of a good body part where you would be able to hide the marks you made—

No, you stopped yourself. No. 

Tears began to blur your vision again as you blindly made your way to your duffel bag. Sam and Dean had gone to the nearby bar to drink off the bad hunt—and in Dean’s case, probably sleep it off with some chick, too. Or Sam might as well. Who knows? You felt more tears prick your eyes at the thought of Sam in some other girl’s bed. You’d had a crush on him forever, something you didn’t realize until after you’d joined the Winchesters. But they were all you had, making leaving completely out of the question. Not that you really wanted to. Dean was your best friend and you got along so well with Sam. Cas helped clear the tension between you and the younger Winchester just by adding a third person, but he was in and out with all of his other issues he was taking care of right now. He hadn’t accompanied you on this particular hunt. The creature was dead, but the monster in question was just an innocent victim. A regular guy—a good guy—who was turned by a couple of werewolves for kicks. He’d helped you track down the rest of the pack to kill before ghosting on you for several days. You’d finally followed the string of new bodies and had been forced to kill him. He had been out of control and even tried to kill you. Sam, however, had jumped in front of you and got a good chunk of his arm ripped out in the process. You had stitched it up in an awkward, tense silence while Dean took his shower first. You knew Sam sensed something was wrong, but seemed unsure what to say, so kept silent. You almost wished he would; you’d hit a brick wall at what to do. Your inner demons had only been screaming at you louder by the day and you couldn’t get them to shut up. You desperately needed some time off, but wasn’t that selfish of you? People could be dying while you were just kicking your feet up. But you were beyond tired and you felt like if anyone even tried to say hello to you at this point, you would burst into tears. God, why couldn’t it all just stop? 

Tears streamed down your face and you didn’t bother to wipe them away. Through your leaky eyes, you could see that you had arrived at the wrong bed in the motel room and were standing in front of Sam’s bag, not yours. You shivered as the air conditioning kicked on again. You always froze easily and the boys liked to keep the room extra cold. Bobby was the same way at his house, so you usually had a long sleeve on. You had grabbed the first things that stuck out of your bag to take them to the shower with you: a tank top and some shorts. You glanced at your bag out of the corner of your eye, then at Sam’s, a blue and black flannel calling to you on the top. He wouldn’t notice, right? Besides, he at least saw you as a friend, even though you desperately wanted him to see you as something more. He was always so sweet and kind and had such a cute nose and you loved his floppy brown hair… 

You glanced around the empty motel room one more time and sniffled before grabbing Sam’s flannel and wrapping it around yourself. You pushed your arms through the sleeves and buried your face in your hands. The sleeves were far too long for you and you could smell Sam’s scent all over them, immediately calming you. But the next thing that happened had the opposite effect:

From the shadows in the corner of the room, you heard the taller Winchester’s voice in concern and surprise, “Y/N?”  
~~~  
-Sam’s POV, about a half hour ago-

I sat at the empty table in the bar, watching Dean flirt with some random chick at the bar. It didn’t feel right without Y/N sitting next to me, cracking jokes and just enjoying her drink. I’d never seen her actively seek out guys at a bar to flirt with them, but plenty of them flirted with her. Why wouldn’t they? She was gorgeous, funny, smart, kind and a host of other adjectives that I could go on forever about. I tried to let her have fun; if I didn’t have the balls to ask her out myself, what right did I have to stop her from seeing someone else? But sometimes, I couldn’t help myself and scared the guy away. Y/N and I had become close ever since she’d joined us a while back. Dean had quickly dubbed her my “fellow nerd” and always teased us about how much we got into the research and “geeked out” over any cool piece of mythology we’d never encountered before or some historical tid-bit or whatnot. We were always so open with each other and sometimes opted to just hang out in the motel room or at Bobby’s while Dean went to a bar post-hunt. We always went on supply runs together too, just to hang out. She had been shy at first and was still introverted and a little closed-off around new people at first, but that only made me feel more privileged that she let me see her without her walls. Dean kept pushing for me to say something to her, ask her out, compliment her, anything, and put us in embarrassing situations in an attempt to get me to fess up multiple times. But I never did. I was too afraid, despite the fact that I was well aware what this life did to people and that I could lose her at any moment. But the words always got stuck in my throat. 

But I always thought if I did lose her—God, I didn’t even want to think about that and closed my eyes as the alcohol burned down my throat—it would be to some monster. Not to herself. Something was wrong lately and she didn’t seem to be snapping out of it. She hadn’t been eating as much, she either slept too much or not enough (depending on the day), she hardly talked anymore and didn’t seem interested in the things she used to like and she’d refused to go the bar with us multiple times now. I know this hunt hadn’t been easy by any means, but I’d tried to convince her to come to take her mind off things. When she’d said no, I’d even offered to stay back with her, but she’d insisted I go with Dean. I knew the reason why: she wanted to cry, alone. I knew she was doing that exact same thing whenever she had a few minutes to spare—be it in the motel bathroom or her room at Bobby’s. I had done some research into depression and even found some things about anxiety that seemed to fit her behavior sometimes, but I had no clue how to help. I didn’t know what would comfort her or what would make her push me away and didn’t know how to approach the subject gently enough to ask. 

Dean pulled me out of my thoughts as he swung by the table, tossing me the Impala’s keys, some tipsy blonde hanging off his arm. He grinned. “Don’t wait up, Sammy.” He started to walk away, then spun back around. “Oh! And the brunette’s been eyeballin’ you for a while now.” He winked, pointing over at the bar. I glanced over to catch her staring and she winked unabashedly. 

I turned my attention back to Dean. She was nothing compared to Y/N. “Actually, I think I’m gonna go check on Y/N.”

Some of the mirth faded from Dean’s eyes. Even though they bickered like siblings, I knew he was worried about her too. But he was even more afraid of saying the wrong thing than I was, but he at least made her smile with his stupid jokes. But even that was getting harder and harder to do. He nodded and smacked my shoulder before heading off with the blonde. In the time I’d been talking to Dean, the brunette had sauntered over to my table and was just about to sit down, giving me her best bedroom eyes. I moved to get up quickly, giving her a quick, flat smile. “Sorry, I was just leaving.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes, but left without much of a fuss, much to my relief. I sped back to the motel, making it in half the time. A light dimly shone from our motel room window and I knocked gently. Hearing no response, I opened the door a crack to check that Y/N had clothes on. Why she wouldn’t, I didn’t know, but she did shower while we were gone and maybe thought she had the room to herself. I shook my head at the thought of Y/N naked, feeling my face heat up. 

Y/N stood over my duffel bag, tears streaming down her face. The sight broke my heart and I just wanted to run over and hug her and never let go. She hadn’t seemed to notice me yet, as I was in a bit of a shadowy corner of the room. She glanced around and her eyes passed right over me in the dark, before pulling one of my favorite flannels out of my duffel and wrapping it around her shoulders, burying her face in the too-long sleeves that covered her hands. I was so surprised—and a little hopeful—that before I realized what I was doing, I said, “Y/N?”  
~~~  
-Reader’s POV-

You snapped your head up from where you’d hidden it in your hands to see Sam slowly making his way towards you, surprise evident on his face. He stopped a few feet away from you and brought his hands out of pockets. He hesitated, then simply let them hang at his sides, his hazel eyes turning into those sympathetic puppy eyes. You looked away and down at the shirt you’d just donned. “S-sorry,” you muttered, your voice cracking. “I can put it back.” 

You started to shrug off the flannel when Sam quickly moved over to you, tugging the soft material back over your shoulders. “No, no, it’s okay. It looks better on you than me anyway.” He huffed out a small laugh that you couldn’t find the energy to return. Sam’s eyes turned sad again and he moved his duffel bag to the floor. “Come here.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you to sit next to him on the bed. “Y/N…” he paused, seeming unsure how to continue. 

You sniffled, feeling more tears fall. “I’m sorry.” Your voice wobbled. “I know I’ve been a mess and I didn’t want you to see that just now and I’m trying, I swear I’m trying—”

“Y/N.” Sam put both his hands on your shoulders and turned you to face him, bending his head so he could look in your eyes. “It’s okay, I promise. You don’t need to apologize for anything. I’m here, okay? I’m always gonna be here. And whatever the problem is, I want you to feel like you can talk to me—and Dean and Cas and Bobby. We care about you. We don’t want you to feel like you need to cry alone after hunts. I mean, I know this one was rough, but that’s just the job. None of it was your fault and I just…” He trailed off, taking a deep breath and looking around the room like the walls would give him a solution. 

You turned your gaze to your hands, which were engulfed in Sam’s flannel sleeves. You wiggled until you could see your fingers and played with the hem of the shirt. After a few moments, Sam’s hands found yours and he began folding the sleeves up until they were the right length for you. His hands were warm and dwarfed yours as he entwined your fingers with his. He leaned over and pressed a gentle, lingering kiss to your forehead, and that’s when you broke. 

You burst into sobs, collapsing against his chest and gripping his shirt for dear life. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. One hand was splayed affectionately over your back while the other gently stroked your still-damp hair. “Shhh,” he murmured. “I’ve got you… I’m right here, I’ve got you…” He pressed his cheek to your hair, pulling you impossibly closer. 

You weren’t sure how long you sat like that. You continued to cry into Sam’s shirt and could hear his pulse steadily thump-thump-thumping beneath your ear. You could feel the warmth radiating off his body and reveled in the feeling of just being held. Finally, you spoke in a raspy voice, “I’m just so fucking tired, Sam. I can’t go anymore. I’m so tired.”

“Yes, you can,” he murmured into your hair. “You’re strong and amazing and you’re not alone.” He paused and when he spoke again, his voice was quiet and not as strong as before. “Just… please don’t do anything—to yourself. I mean, I can’t even imagine how I would survive if you weren’t…” He trailed off, his voice cracking at the end. “Just, you can talk to me, okay? I want you to talk to me. I swear, I won’t judge you, if that’s what you’re afraid of. Whatever you need, I’ll do it, I promise. I just want you to be happy.”

The tears had finally calmed and you just sat there against Sam’s chest for several more minutes. Finally, you breathed, “I have depression… and an anxiety disorder…” 

Sam squeezed your shoulders with his hand, burying his face in your hair at the same time. “I… kind of already knew. You’re so strong for making it this far and you have to keep going. Please, for me if for no one else.”

“I keep thinking about… doing things…”

You heard Sam take a shaky breath in your ear. “No, God, Y/N, please never do that. You’re so amazing and beautiful and you deserve everything on this damn planet.”

“I feel worthless, Sam.”

“You’re not. Trust me, you’re anything but. You’re worth everything.” 

You were silent for a few moments. “Can you… um…” 

“Can I what? Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it.”

You tilted your head to look at him, feeling your face grow hot at how close the two of your lips were. You blinked and brought your eyes back up to his. “Can you just… maybe stay with me? Only if you want to though—”

“Of course.” He kissed your hair again and moved to lay down on the bed, never removing his hand from your back. He pulled you against his chest and cradled you tightly. You snuggled deeper into his warmth. He made you feel so loved and safe and you just wanted to tell him how much you loved him. But what if you ruined the moment when he said he didn’t feel the same way? But your chest felt like it was about to burst with the mixture of pain, confusion and love. 

Instead, you just wrapped your arms around his torso. “Thank you,” you murmured. 

He tightened his arms around you. “I’ll always be here for you.” 

There was a comfortable silence for several minutes as your breathing evened out and you could feel yourself drifting off. Sam shifted in bed and you felt the leg of his jeans rub up against your bare skin. “You can go change if you want,” you mumbled into his shirt. 

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I’ll be right back.”

He slipped out of bed, letting his hand trail across your back. You immediately shivered once he was gone and burrowed under the covers. You closed your eyes. You felt even more tired than before now and your eyes felt swollen and sore from all the crying. A few minutes later, you heard footsteps and felt the bed dip. Sam slipped under the covers with you and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling your back close against his chest. You rolled over and buried your face in his shoulder, inhaling his scent. “Thank you,” you said again, nice and safe and warm again in his arms. He merely pulled you closer and you felt yourself dozing off. 

You were almost asleep when you heard Sam whisper, “Y/N?”

You tried to give a tired moan in response, but it must not have been loud enough, because he continued. After another long kiss to your hair, he murmured, “I love you.”

Your eyes snapped open. If you weren’t awake before, you were now. You turned to look at him with wide eyes. His own widened in surprise and he opened and closed his mouth several times before any sound emerged. “Oh, God—I’m sorry—I thought you were asleep, I didn’t want to overwhelm you and it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, I’m still here for you and I don’t want you to feel obligated—”

You tilted your head and silenced him with a kiss. He made a surprised noise and was stiff for a moment, making you rethink your decision. Maybe you were just too desperate for affection and had jumped the gun. But those thoughts melted when he pulled you closer and kissed back, tangling his fingers in your hair. You did the same in turn and found his long mop just as soft as you always imagined it would be. His kisses were slow and sweet and his hands gently explored your sides, running through your hair. His smell filled your nose and you could feel the muscles of his torso as you pressed up against him. Your hands explored his toned back and his hands slid down through your hair to cup the side of your neck, his thumb brushing against your collar bone. 

The two of you finally pulled away, breathless, and you yawned into his shoulder. He chuckled and you pressed a kiss to an exposed bit of his shoulder. “I love you, too, Sam,” you murmured sleepily. 

“I know that doesn’t fix all your problems,” he said, “but I do love you and thought you needed to hear it.” He laughed. “Even though you kind of weren’t supposed to hear it. But I’m glad you did.”

“I am, too. Night, Sam.”

“Night, Y/N/N.” 

You snuggled deeper into Sam’s arms. It would be a long road until you were completely better—if that even happened—but it didn’t seem as dark now that you knew you had Sam (and your other friends) at your back.


End file.
